


We are fire born in the same hearth

by ShepHawke



Category: Avatar (TV), Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Incest, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepHawke/pseuds/ShepHawke
Summary: Upon returning home to the Fire Nation royal palace, Zuko reconnects with his sister in a way that some might frown upon. Even she, Azula, tells him to be careful. But she goes along with it anyway......(Right after Zuko and Mai's picnic, as Azula comes by to tell her brother to be cautios (Book Three, Episode Two))





	We are fire born in the same hearth

_“Just be careful, dumb-dumb,”_ she says, without this smirk on her lips that always holds a thousand meanings. I look up at her face, look into her eyes, trying to figure out without much enthusiasm what could she mean by this. I can’t, of course, neither could I ever. I don’t care, though. For once… I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.

That’s why I am _not_ careful when I reach out for the bottom of her royal mundane robe, one just like my own. We _are_ alike with her. We are blood and flesh; we are fire born in the same hearth. She would laugh if I were to say this aloud, that I am like her. In her eyes, nobody is like her, but her eyes also, are alike to mine. My fingers rough and burned and cut a hundred times, they grip on the delicate silk of her skirt and pull her towards me. She follows, her face unchanged entirely, not even a single hair would escape the perfection of her look. But I… don’t care about that, either.

She steps over me with a foot, and lowers her body to sit on me in one, swift movement, our eyes still connected. I let go of her clothes and put my hands by my own sides on the spread soft with the grass beneath it. I can feel her breath, it is hot and even, and my own must be too. I simply look at her, as if expectant, although I am expecting nothing. Or… perhaps I am. I couldn’t tell a lot of things about myself…

When I came to her bedroom some nights ago to learn why would she tell father that I was the one to slay the avatar, to put her glory unto me, I was expecting many things. I, however, never expected us to… _resume_ the relationship we’ve had before my exile. My sister, Azula, the firebending prodigy, the pride of the royal family… She lied beneath me once again, gripping on my wrist as I strangled her fair, contracting neck. Although… to be fair, I never expect any of our… close meetings, to happen. And whenever they do, I always expect the one that just finished to be the last, and for none ever to follow. And I am always wrong to do so.

Our robes’ fabric makes soft rustles as she makes way between our most sensitive points with her long fingers, sharp nails making the skin of my lower abdomen twitch in reaction once she reaches it directly. She breathes in sharply and plunges both her palms into my undergarments, wrapping the warmth of her fingers around the heat of my manhood. I look at her as if nothing happens, however, only my pupils slightly widening betraying the sensations of my body. She notices, though, as she always does, and my somewhat condescending air doesn’t bug her when her crimson lips spread in a brilliant smile, her hands squeezing my shaft and forcing my throat to tighten. I’ve been through things she can’t imagine in her twisted head, though, so I only tilt my head a little backwards, as if bored and just waiting for it to be over. I can see the beginning of a spoiled pout to form on her lips but it never takes full form. She is bored too, she wants to show, so she just rises herself on her knees to then slowly lower right onto me, guiding my rod between her labia.

We are still fully dressed, in complete view of anyone who would dare stepping here, of Mei if she decided to return. She won’t, though, and no one will come here because Azula is here. You do not anger Azula, you do not cross her path. But that’s why she’s here, though. Despite this reputation, totally deserved, she still wants to be treated with strength and authority. She can’t let herself be such with anyone else, man or woman, political ally or enemy, or even a friend. I, though. She lets me do things she wouldn’t let anyone. Oh yes, I am aware that everything that happens she has accurately calculated hours before, but… I stroke my pride thinking that I allow her to think so. After all… you can’t be intimidated by a person that struggles not to beg you to let her reach her climax. She never does, but I see it in her eyes – eyes that are so much alike to mine.

She slowly rides me, her hips swaying and wavering more than bobbing up and down, though I don’t mind. I still look at her with a mix of curiosity and lack of interest, while she grips on my shoulder and brings her forehead to meet my own. I lean forward with my face to capture her lips in mine, I bite on them, without enthusiasm – as if trying to do at least something that would be better than what is happening. That is what she likes, though, at least that’s what I think she likes. For my benefit no doubt, she lets out a small sound with her throat into our disharmonic kiss and comes to press out chests together. I feel her breasts under the few thin, soft layers of silk. They are perfectly shaped, ideally soft, and I feel them well enough to be aroused without having to reach up and grab them, though I would if I wanted to. She takes pleasure as she likes, bringing the kiss into more sensual waters and closing her eyes, one of her arms circling around my neck. I rise a knee, just to change the angle, and her whole back shudders suddenly. She lies on me almost entirely, using me no less, as some sort of toy. Like it was all her plan all along. I expected no less, though, that’s true…

She finishes in a strong bite on my lip and a few shivers of her heated insides. Azula, my sister and my torturer, my family and my victim, she smiles and wipes off a drop of saliva from the corner of her a little messy mouth. She wants to stand up, without even looking at me, but _as if I would let her._ I frown deeply, as much as I can with only one eyebrow to control, and I rise my face to kiss her again, our eyes opened and understanding all that is on the other's mind. I finally straighten up, bending both my knees to bring her body closer, my hands rough and wide slipping on her lower round and perfect cheeks to squeeze them indecently as if she was a commoner. Her eyebrow twitches, as do her fingertips on my clothes, but I simply chuckle with a single breath as hot as flames themselves and grab her ass and rise it with only the strength of my arms. It is my fun time now, and I do not care if she has any this time.

I enjoy it very much, I must admit. To bring her to the breaking point again and again in a single go, until her knees tremble and her facial expressions lose all control. One could say I see the real Azula in these moments but that would not be true. It isn’t the sister I grew up with in such moments. It’s a person I don’t know. A person broken and entirely lost. I love this person. But I do not respect her. What I enjoy the _most_ though, is keeping my dear sister on the brim for so long that it infuriates her, to have my way as I please, to never do what she asks, to have my own and then leave her frustrated and angry and with all her plans ruined as much as her sheets. She loves me, in those moments, I know that much. That’s why we continue.

That’s why I am not zapped by lightning yet as I bring her whole body up and down like if she was a doll, as I kiss her sloppily and wetly, as I bite her neck and continue to grope her ass with strong fingers. As I grunt in my pleasure and ignore any and all that she says, remembering however, always remembering. How she calls me with this name, _‘Zuzu’,_ how she sighs and tries to cover it with a chuckle of superiority and indulgence. How she grips on my arms and shoulders, and her knees don’t hold her anymore, but only I and my hands on her very interesting parts.

I spill inside her and sigh myself, dropping my head in the crook of her neck as she limps entirely, sighing as well, but shaky and loud. Sometimes I wonder if we could conceive like this. What a sick joke that would be. To be entirely honest, though… the thought of our bloodline combining like this makes me shiver to the thought of the firebending masters we would produce. I also wonder if she thinks this, but I already know the answer. No. She doesn’t, she must be taking some sort of herbs to avoid it, and she holds no sick thoughts of such nature that I do. They are not wishes, either, simply… wonderings. Ones that are soaked in caution.

She finally stands up, myself leaving her body and sighing this time without restraint. _I’m tired,_ so I just lie on my back and spread my arms. She laughs shortly and leaves without any further remarks, and for that I am grateful. You would think that I’d stop thinking this way already, but… now, just like always, I think that it was probably the last time we do this.


End file.
